“The squadron sails for Christiania to-morrow afternoon,” added Sanford. “The ship will be gone before we can get there.”
“She will not go without us,” suggested Burchmore.
“Yes, she will,” said Stockwell, who was beginning to fathom the dark ways of the coxswain. “The principal will suppose we have gone on to Christiania.”
“That’s so.”
“But what are we to do?” demanded Tinckner.
“That’s the question,” added Sanford, with a blank look, as though he considered the situation as utterly hopeless.
“We are not so badly off as we might be,” said Boyden.
“I don’t see how it could be any worse,” replied Sanford. “But I don’t know that it is our fault. The captain of the steamer would not stop, after he had picked us up; at least, I don’t know anything about it; but Ole said he wouldn’t stop.”
“He could not stop,” protested the waif, vehemently. “He had only just time enough to reach Frederiksværn in season for the other steamer. If he lost her, he would be turned off. He wouldn’t stop for love or money.”
“No matter, for that; here we are, and what are we going to do? It’s no use to cry for spilled milk,” continued Stockwell. “The ship will go to Christiania, and won’t come near this place. Mr. Lowington will expect to find us there when he arrives, and all we have to do is to make good his calculation. We have plenty of money, and we can get there somehow or other.”